This page written circa 30 March, 2007.

Funny how it is hard to find anything profound or entertaining to write when everything is going well, isn't it? It must be hell to be a columnist whose life is swell, you'd never make a deadline.

The house extension is due to start soon; nothing significant has blown over or blown up lately; it was great to see Marion and Kent; I am thoroughly enjoying hot spas before going to work or under a glorious Milky Way last thing before going to bed; the class I am teaching seems to be well-received; I am enjoying the construction of Wall Mountain out of a recycled bench from one of our Physics labs; with the equinox we have laid in wood and coal for next Winter and we are all looking forward to pizzas cooked in our own wood-fired stove. Life seems good.

I cannot resist recording in addition that I made the front page of the Waikato Times recently. The journalist whose job is to fill the popular science page must have been a bit short of news, because she interviewed me, and had me photographed on my E-go electric bike that I keep in my office. She made me sound so interesting the feature was listed on the front page. As Dan commented on Skyping me in the said office, "I see your ego, and your bike".

The "history repeats itself" department reminds me that I took relatively few photographs between 1990 and 1993. I had moved into Chelmsford Street on Anzac Day 1990, and I soon discovered that I loved living by myself. Apart from the odd encounter with a madwoman, life was good, and the madwomen were entertaining... Warwick and I still smile when he tells the story of Robyne's fax that read "by the time you read this I will be dead", followed by her phone call to check that I had got the fax.

I have said before that I write this page as much for myself as anyone else, and so my children have more of a history of their existence and their family than I have of mine and that of my antecedents. I do not think of this as a blog, nor an ephemeral diary of thoughts and events, any more than Philip Adams might think of one of his essays as a diary entry, though one can see his evolution therein. On the whole I ignore personal blogs except for those of personal friends, and I regard public blogs like SATC in the SMH on a par with real-time TV---not worth the time.

I can see an occasional useful application of the blog. They fill a space. If you need to benchmark yourself in some respect, or get a vox-pop on a particular subject, scan a blog. Given matters voiced in It's me again, Wall and True Lies there has been heightened interest in attitudes to reproduction at Bywater Grange. Perhaps Belinda's Sexless In The Suburbs will manage to highlight a good side of parenthood. Then again, maybe it will manage only to make light of what is, after all, an irreversible experiment of debatable worth.

"I drink coffee before I go to bed", said Steven Wright, "so I dream faster". In "1984" a ficticious perpetual war kept the citizens on their toes. Douglas Adams invented the "panic inducer" to achieve a similar drive. There is something appealing in the opposite of "laid back and happy". I think I prefer "excited and happy".

Incidentally, this is still not the promised continuation of my second-last Hamiltonian on the assessment of NZ; the hiatus continues.

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